


A Nap is All You Need

by Engiffyserce



Series: Clea AU [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Clea AU, Joelay-Freeform, M/M, Old work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 17:37:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1696727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engiffyserce/pseuds/Engiffyserce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray liked Joel. Like, really liked Joel; even if he was cagey, panicky, Communication Router. Hell, the old nomad wouldn’t have cared if the middle-aged man was a deadbeat enemy who hated him. He was Ray’s. Of course that means some snuggling and a nap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Nap is All You Need

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Clea AU. I’ll be making a masterlist and a whole guide to things you guys will need to know! You don’t have to dive in (because I’ll give all the information in the notes) but it never hurts to become part of it! If you want to, you can also write out Clea AU’s. (with any fandom/pairing) Just message me with any questions/ request of information and I’ll give it to you! Viva la fanfictions!
> 
> Joel is a Communication Router and a Native [Meaning he makes sure others can talk to each other through bluetooths. Being a Native means he was born in HQ [Harlem Quintel (Probably going to change) and not in the world abroad (Which has a whole map I am drawing out)] Ray is a Scout and a Nomad [Meaning he scouts ahead of everyone during missions. Being a Nomad means he as born with others who do not have a set home. Now he lives at HQ)]
> 
> The Toxic Wastelands is just an area with poisonous gases in the air. It has valued metal stored in the earth that they protect.
> 
> A ‘Zombie’ is just a creature or human who has been mutated. Most have a working mind and nervous system, so they are not infectious (Though many harbor poisonous substanses that can sicken a person)
> 
> Living corridors are areas that resemble side-by-side area for living. Common rooms are area they all hang out in with a large kitchen, televisions, and other things they can use.
> 
> In this AU they are very touchy because they have learned to appreciate each other due to the fact that so many of them die or are severely injured (As Ray can be conceived as in this one) Even though it’ll probably become a relationship.
> 
> Happy Reading!

Ray liked Joel. Like, really liked Joel; even if he was cagey, panicky, Communication Router. Hell, the old nomad wouldn’t have cared if the middle-aged man was a deadbeat enemy who hated him. He was  _Ray’s_.

 

"Hey, hey Joel," The younger man pestered, waving his hand in front of the Comm.’s face. Heyman groaned, blinking hard for a moment. He had been working for a solid eight hours nonstop-and that was just the beginning of the night. He wasn’t accounting for earlier in the day. The lighter skin worker turned to face the Scout, slouching a bit, cracking his fingers in turn. Ray frowned, looking the man over. His grey shirt and shorts fit loosely and baggy around his thin frame, skewed from any normal looking position. His eyes held dark rings under them, as if he hadn’t slept for days. Which, by past situations, was probably true. His hair was a mess, sticking out anywhere and everywhere. "Jesus, you look like hell." Joel chuckled darkly.

 

"Well, when about fifty of you go out on a mission to the Toxic Wastelands, I worry. Not to mention the coding between your ear pieces and visual screens aren’t synced. Things get messy," The older man explained, strain present in his tired voice. The agility master gave a huff.

 

"But we’re not leaving for another three days! Come on, a few hours won’t hurt. Besides, I really don’t want you passing out during training or something. Burnie would really chap your ass then," The tan skinned scout joked half-heartedly, earning a small smile from Joel. The Comm. Router ran a shaky hand through his jet black hair. His eyelids were droopy and it took him every ounce of strength he had to stay awake. He sighed, debating his options. He’d either pass out at his station or curled up comfortably in a bed. He chose the latter.

 

"Fine, you’re right," The lighter skinned fellow stood, swaying hard. If it weren’t for Ray’s arm hooking around his waist, it would have probably been a bad situation with bumps, bruises, and broken equipment. Joel muttered his thanks, giving himself a second to regain composure. When he felt sturdy, he started forward. The nomad didn’t leave his side though. It didn’t bother the native at all; he enjoyed the support and contact he was getting.

 

It took them a little while to get to their sleep corridors. The two workers found their way down the hallway, reading the names as the went.

 

'Tuggey' to their right.

 

'Burns' to their left. It went on like this for a while.

 

By the time ‘Cross’, ‘Luna’, and ‘Haywood’ were passed, Joel started to feel heavy. He knew that by the time the made it to his apartment like room, he’d be nothing but dead weight. Ray started to feel it as well.

 

When the name ‘Narvaez’ came into view, the nomad had an idea.

 

"Hey, Joel?" The tanner man spoke, receiving  a low pitched hum in response. "How about you stay at my place for the night. I’ll just set you up in my bed and I’ll drop on the couch." The older man stopped suddenly, jerking his friend back. The scout gave a gruff whine, looking up at the taller man with confusion.

 

"No. That’s stupid," Was all the native answered, mustering up a very menacing glare; well, would have been menacing if it hadn’t been Ray. All it did was muse the younger man.

 

"Alright, then we’ll both sleep in bed," The nomad answered, swiftly pulling the older Comm. Router towards the electronically sliding door. Joel tried pulling back, but ended up falling farther into the warriors grasp as he tripped with a silent gasp. It wasn’t the best conclusion for the move. Muttering, the middle-aged man gave up, being led into a dark living area.

 

He was instructed to take off his shoes. Ray let go of the other man to let him work the blue sneakers off his own feet. The nomad did the same, kicking them his off and tossing them by the door. As Joel started this task, he fell off balance, rocking back. Trying to recover, he pedaled backwards, coincidentally slamming into the wall behind him with a yelp. The younger man looked back, catching a glimpse of the older man falling to the hardwood flooring.

 

The scout quickly moved over and took a knee next to the Comm. Router, worry written clearly across his face. He reached out, placing a soft hand on his shoulder.

 

"You okay?" The younger inquired, shifting slightly so he could slide his friend’s shoes off, tossing them into the same corner as his. Joel nodded, though he groaned when a dull throb erupted in his shoulders. "Come on, up."

 

With one swift move, Ray ran his arm around the tired man’s back, using the wall to guide him to a standing position. It took a few unsure moment before the nomad nosed his way under the natives arm, taking a large amount of the man’s weight. When the worker noticed what was going on, he became annoyed, struggling out of the grasp. Or, at least trying to struggle. It was futile as the tan skinned man lead them to a dark bedroom, plopping the middle-aged man down on the soft sheets.

 

Ray disappeared into the darker corner of the room. There was a familiar sound of a drawer opening and closing with a small pause between the two. The younger man chuckled, coming back with a dark shirt looking to be about the native’s size.

 

The Comm. Router gave the nomad a confused look before the shirt was tossed into his hands. He unfolded it quickly, reading the printed lettering. It was faded and stained, but the older man had no problems making out the words.

 

'Joel Heyman-Communication GENIUS'

 

The older man blinked, dumbfounded. It had been a present from the guys back when they first created the Roosterteeth Sector. Geoff, Burnie, and Gus all had similar shirts with their profession on it. This thing was ten years old. How did Ray get it?

 

"Where did you find this?" The lighter skinned man asked, looking up to the younger. Narvaez shrugged, a pleasant smirk planted on his lips.

 

"Y’know, you left it in the common room after you and Geoff got smashed. The night-" He was suddenly cut off by the older man.

 

"The night you found me passed out at my front door."

 

"The very same."

 

"Ah." Was the only thing Joel managed to answer, looking at the shirt. He didn’t really expect the younger man to notice such stupid objects, let alone one old and almost forgotten article of clothing. There was a moment of silence before Ray cleared his throat.

 

"Get changed. I have to go empty my pockets," He said, patting his thigh pocket. He turned on a heel and walked out. The older man quickly slid both his pants and shirt off, slipping the faded shirt over his head, tugging it down swiftly.

 

It struck him odd that his co-worker knew what he slept in at night. Maybe he had complained about it one night? Joel shook his head, playing with the hem of his boxers, waiting for the other to return.

 

When he did, he wasn’t wearing anything but boxers and the Comm. Router gave a sharp intake of air.

 

It wasn’t uncommon for Joel to see his friend’s bodies bruised, battered, and scarred. Actually, it was more natural to see such marks of these proud warriors. And in honesty, sometimes the middle-aged man envied them. He was rarely out in the field and when he was, it was usually a short time led at a secure base. The worse injury he’d had was a gash on his arm from a piece debris sent through the air. Of course, Ray had been worried for his well-being for a solid week. It was only a few stitches Joel had said. In the end, it had ended up infected, making him quite sick, but that was besides the point. He’d never really been through such fights and bringing back trophies and stories to tell the young. He was just a communication router and nothing more.

 

Ray on the other hand, had a good handful of scars covering his torso and waist. Some were caused by torture events in his later teens and some were from newer battles. Those didn’t bother Joel much. What did bother him was the dark bruising that splashed across the younger man’s rib cage. They were oddly shaped and looked very painful.

 

"What happened?" Joel questioned, face pale with worry. The scout was confused until he followed his friend’s gaze right to his chest.

 

"Wha-Oh! Yeah, a couple days ago my scouting team got ambushed and there was a scuffle. Me and a zombie got tossed into a rocky dip. He died on impact. Lucky enough I fell onto my backpack, sorta. They don’t hurt," The younger answered, walking back over to the Comm. Router. Joel’s hands shot up when Ray came into touching distance, running soft fingers over the clustered injuries. The younger closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. He gave a humm of satisfaction before adding, "See? I’m fine. No worries here."

 

"So you carried me whilst you were in this condition?" Joel gave a pout, grazing over the worst of them slowly, making sure the skin wasn’t pulled. Ray still silently winced, hoping his friend hadn’t seen. The older man had seen though, removing his hands swiftly. The nomad gave a whine, but the native shook his head, looking down in shame. "I’m sorry." Was all he managed.

 

"For what? You didn’t do anything," The scout countered, sitting next to the middle-aged man. "And I don’t blame you for anything else. Not even the time you puked on my shoes." A whine escaped Joel.

 

"That was an accident!" He defended, crossing him arms. Ray chuckled, shaking his head.

 

"Whatever. Come on, lets get some shut eye," The younger said, crawling onto the bed and patting the sheets next to him. Joel obliged, moving under the covers simultaneously with his friend. The older man sunk into the comfort of the bed, giving a small sigh of content. He closed his eyes, finding himself wrapping an arm around the scout, pulling him closer. Ray gave a small sound of surprise, but snuggled himself against Joel’s chest, lulled by the rhythmic beats and smell of cologne.

 

"Goodnight," Ray muttered, giving a relieved sigh.

 

"Night," Joel answered, tracing the bruises on the nomad’s back.

 

They fell asleep quickly in each others grasp.

 

Joel liked Ray. Like, really liked Ray. Even if he was an energetic, overachieving, Scout. It wouldn’t matter if he was a deadbeat enemy who hated him. He was Joel’s.

 

And Ray liked that.


End file.
